Tsune's Revenge: A Christmas Story
by Masako Moonshade
Summary: A wicked Spirit is thrown from the Spirit World and is reassigned to a rather unusal fate, accompanied by unusual guests. Christmas will never be the same...
1. Chapter 1

**Tsune's Revenge: A Christmas Story **

Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar or A Christmas Carol.

Disclaimer II: The Sequel: I apologize to Charles Dickens with all my heart, and assure him that turning in your grave is an excellent form of exercise. And I would like to remind my readers that flames are for roasting chestnuts, not for mauling authors.

Author's Note: This is a Christmas Present to Neko-AkA-Sparky and the rest ofTEAF on Gaia. Blame her, not me. It's something I came up with when I was at work (which is why teenagers should not be paid minimum wage for the good jobs that we do. It does things to us.) Also, I know it's weird, but this is actually a spinoff/sequel to another story I'm working on right now, which is where Tsune comes from. She's the shapeshiftingSpirit of Chaos, and followed Zuko around for a while... You don't need to read the other story to understand this one, but it came first, and I will be posting it soon. So be on the lookout for Shades of Chaos.

**Prologue**

"_Hm..." Tsune said. "Well...this is certainly interesting."_

"_What is?" Ko asked, some demon's face raising it's eye at his sister._

"_Exactly," she huffed. "Do you have any idea how **boring** it is to be out of work? Where's the fun? Where's the excitement? I mean, I used to be **Chaos**! I used to be-"_

"_Don't complain to me about it, Tsune," he said wearily. His face was now that of an old man to suit his mood. "You are the one who chose to die."_

"_Well, I assumed that Spirits actually **could** die. I didn't think-"_

"_You never do think, sister."_

_She grimaced at him._

"_But I'm bored!"_

"_Not for long," Ko assured her. "You've been reassigned." The Ex-Spirit of Chaos raised an eyebrow, her form shifting to that of a child._

_"They can do that?" Her brother nodded. "To what?" _

_"You're to be the Spirit of something called 'Christmas'." _

_"'Christmas?' What the blaze is that supposed to be?" Ko grimaced, the expression made comical as he assumed a rabbit's face._

_"It's a holiday." _

_"You must be kidding me," Tsune said, now taking the appearance of a warrior. "Do they honestly think that I'm going to sit here and let myself get-" _

_"Quit complaining. At least you're employed." Tsune huffed again, becoming a toddler as she sat stubbornly on a stalagmite. Her brother continued, ignoring her behavior. "You are to start next week. Your first assignment is a mister E. Scrooge." His face changed to that of an old man, most likely like her intended victim. A demon's grin spread across Tsune's face._

"_Scrooge, hm? This should be interesting..."_

**Chapter 1**

"So this man Marley is dead, right?" Tsune asked. She was in the form of a rather well off young gentleman, new to the area. The face she wore was handsome and endearing, and nobody had any problem answering such innocent questions.

"As a doornail, sir," the man said. "At least, according to Mr. Scrooge. And Scrooge is good for his word."

"Good to know," Tsune said politely, turning away from the man. The street around them was crowded and busy, leaving barely enough room between the hurried shoppers for her to walk. Tsune paid sparse attention, but only to their clothes. This was the accepted style. So this is what she must _not_ look like when she met up with this Scrooge fellow. Simple enough. Her last life had been nothing like this place, and coming up with something different would be no difficulty. In the crowd she caught a glance of a cruelly fat man with a face that would have made Ko cringe stop in the middle of the walkway, causing a few of the shoppers to bump into him.

"Ah, Mister Scrooge-" he called. Another man turned absently.

"Your servant, sir," he said, his voice gruff.

"No way..." Tsune breathed. "_Him_? _He's_ E. Scrooge?" And it was. Ebenezer Scrooge. Just as he had been described, in his awkward, drab little clothes that made him look at once wealthy and imposing. But his face was what caught her off guard. Because this wasn't just some rich jerk.

This was the Fire Lord Ozai. Dressed as a miser. In the middle of London.

_Gonna have to ask Ko about this one..._ she grumbled mentally as she listened in on their conversation.

"Are you off home to keep Christmas?" the fat man asked.

"I am not in the habit of keeping Christmas, sir," Ozai-Scrooge snapped.

Tsune's eyes narrowed. _Hey. It may be a dumb holiday, but it's officially **my** holiday, your charbroiled Highness..._

"Then why are you leaving so early?" another man jumped into conversation. Ozai-Scrooge scowled.

"Christmas has a habit of keeping men from doing business..." he growled.

_I'm liking you less and less with every word that comes out of your ugly little mouth, you know that?_

"Come," argued the newcomer. "It's in the nature of things that ants toil and grasshoppers sing and play, Mister Scrooge."

"An ant is what it is and a grasshopper is what it is and Christmas, sir, is a humbug." Ozai-Scrooge snapped, his already disagreeable face turning deeper into a scowl. "Good day."

With all the venom in his voice, he may as well have said "_Rot in hell_."

Tsune leaned back, crossing her arms in contempt as the men dispersed. "That does it, cretin," she muttered. "You're going to regret this day."

She trailed after 'Scrooge' for the rest of the day, following him into something called The London Exchange, which had some unknown purpose that she could only guess at. As a spider she watched him mouth off to some neglected soul who asked for an extension on money...

_Try piracy. It pays off far better than this stupid Wage work you keep griping about_.

Once more she was the handsome gentleman, stalking after him with feline grace as he entered what she took to be his shop- the sign was written in outlandish characters, not at all like the symbols she was used to, but that meant little to her. In a back alley, she shed the human disguise, choosing instead the tiny form of a mouse, and entered the shop through a crack in the wall.

A pleasant man, tall and smiling cheerfully (though to Tsune's minscule form, anything could be judged as tall, and compared to Ozai...or rather, Scrooge's petulant face, a gravestone would have looked cheerful) stepped in through the door in a flurry of snowflakes. The man shivered, glancing through a massive scarf at a tiny fire in the corner of the room. The pathetic flame could barely have warmed a breadcrumb.

_Zuko would have thrown a fit to see such a disgrace,_ she thought smugly. Sitting over the pitiful excuse for fire, another man sat, his entire body shaking with cold, writing in unusual letters, not unlike the ones on the sign. The little man jumped to see the newcomer, but he pointed a shivering hand at the door behind him. The newcomer nodded in appreciation and followed his hand, walking gaily to a door at the back of the shop. Tsune scurried behind him.

"Merry Christmas, uncle!" the young man cried jovially. Tsune's nose quivered. That voice was familiar...but where did she know it...? She had seen millions of humans in her past lifetime- surely one of them must have been similar- "God save you!"

The young man threw off his scarf, and Tsune's miniscule heart nearly stopped. Standing above her, clad in the red and white of a soldier, as he would be, missing nothing but his scowl and his scar, was Prince Zuko.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I still own neither The Christmas Carol nor Avatar. But this crackheaded idea is mine. Merry Christmas (long live political incorrectness!)

AN: You know, now that I've posted the first two chapters, I do recomend that you read Shades of Chaos. It isn't necessary to understand this, but it will help. How's that for advertising?

**Chapter 2**

It was impossible. Tsune had seen incredible things in her lifetime, but this was beyond even her faculties. The Exiled Prince of the Fire Nation could not be here, in London, speaking to his father as though he'd had too much sake.

"Bah!" Ozai snapped, spinning in his chair to scowl at Zuko. "Humbug!" This pulled the Spirit from her stupor. _You really like that word, don't you?_ She thought. _What does it mean, anyway? I have never once seen a bug that hums, and I've **been** most insects already. _

"Christmas a humbug, uncle?" Zuko said innocently. _And why are you calling him Uncle? He isn't Iroh._ The young man smiled gently. "You don't mean that, I am sure." _Yeah. You have **definitely** had too much to drink, dear._

"I do! _Merry_ _Christmas_!" he mocked. "What right have _you_ to be merry? You're poor enough." _And **he** is definitely Ozai. First 'dishonor', then exile, now he's rubbing poverty in your face. And now, dear, knowing you, you're going to nominate him for some 'Father of the Year' award._

"Come, then," Zuko countered, undaunted. "What right have you to be dismal? What reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough." Tsune squeaked in agreement, but silenced herself as both men turned to look for the source of the sound.

"Bah! Humbug..." Ozai grumbled. The word was followed by a cried oath as Tsune dug her mouse's teeth into his heel, disappearing beneath his desk as he kicked out at his attacker.

"Don't be cross, uncle," Zuko chided gently, clearly misinterpreting the shout. Ozai's glare simmered, though he aimed it out a grimy window, away from his son (though Zuko seemed convinced that he was his uncle...)

"What else can I be when I live in such a world of fools as this Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas. What's Christmas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a time for finding yourself a year older, but not an hour richer; a time for balancing your books and having every item in 'em through a round dozen of months presented dead against you?"

Tsune hadn't understood more than a few words of this speech, but she could fill in the blanks, simply by looking at Zuko's crestfallen face. He looked at once determined and defeated, the way he usually appeared when the Avatar got away from him, though without the usual anger. Absolutely ignorant of this, Ozai continued: "If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with "Merry Christmas" on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!" This much Tsune had understood, and her patience was quickly disappearing. It wasn't so much his lack of excitement for the holiday (because it rivaled her own) but because of how cold- how cruel- he was being to Zuko. Hadn't the poor boy suffered enough already? And at Ozai's hands, too! She was already working on her plans for revenge when a new man entered the room. This one, thankfully, Tsune did not recognize. He was silent, carefully picking up stacks of scrolls and long feathers and bottles of black liquid that she could only imagine was supposed to be ink.

"Uncle!" Zuko cried, clearly as impassioned as the Spirit to hear Ozai's little speech.

"Nephew!" the old man mocked. "You keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine!" _I'm not letting you keep **my** holidayanywhere, you miserable pile of filth! If you're lucky, you'll end up in my stomach!_

"Keep it!" Zuko snapped. _This_ was more like him. Oddly enough, he only seemed himself when he was irritated. "But you _don't_ keep it!"

"Then let me leave it alone! Much good may it do to you!" Ozai bellowed. And then his voice lowered, retracting to a sharp hiss. "Much good it has ever done you!" Zuko opened his mouth to speak- Tsune froze in interest. It had been too long since she had seen some decent Firebending. Especially against the beast who called himself Fire Lord- or now, Scrooge. But then he closed his eyes, and his mouth, releasing a soft puff of air as though he was meditating.

"There are many things," he began, his voice soft yet confident, "from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say. Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round- apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that-" _Wait_, Tsune thought. _What's so sacred about all this? Why don't people tell me these things?_ "-as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!" The man who had just entered clapped quietly. Tsune only sat motionless. _What have I gotten myself into?_ She wondered miserably. _I used to be Chaos. I used to be Panic. I used to be fun. How do you get from there to Charity and Forgiveness? _She laid her mouse's head on the dusty floor._ Well...it isn't all bad, I guess. Zuko seems to like this enough. And at least I get to use my creative talents on Ozai._

Oblivious to her thoughts, the intended reception of her creative talents began to roar. "Let me hear another sound from you, and you'll keep your Christmas!" he snarled. "By losing your job!" He turned on Zuko, his yellow eyes narrowed coldly. "You're quite a powerful speaker, sir," he hissed, the mockery reentering his voice. "I wonder you don't go into Parlament." Tsune could only assume that this was an insult, and it made her even angrier.

"Don't be angry, uncle," Zuko said. He wasn't afraid, though lesser men might have been, and he wasn't discouraged (not outwardly, at least. Tsune had seen firsthand how he liked to keep such 'weaknesses' concealed). He only continued to stare at his 'uncle' with steady eyes. "Dine with us tomorrow. Will you come see us?" It was an invitation. He had been shouted at, insulted, and he was inviting Ozai to dinner. _He should be nominated to Sagehood._

And yet, despite this saintly show of mercy, seemed to billow out, enlarging in pure, unrestrained rage. "Oh, I'll see you, all right," he growled, advancing. "I'll see you in Hell!" Tsune set her claws into the wood. They were tiny now- useless in a fight. But if he tried, if he even looked like he was trying to strike Zuko, they would be far more effective. _Tiger. Dragon. Bear._ She could become them in an instant and tear the man to shreds. And she had every intention of doing so.

"But why?" Zuko asked. "Why?"

"Why did you get married?" Ozai snapped. His 'nephew' looked confused.

"Because I fell in love," he said, as though it was obvious. As though it should have been clear. As though it was painful to think that Ozai had overlooked such a simple, beautiful fact. Had Tsune been able to smile, to cry, she would have.

_Finally, s_he thought gently, her anger dissolving._ Finally. Good for you, dear. I'm glad._ Ozai did not share her opinions. In fact, he looked disgusted.

"_Fell in love_?" he demanded, pure loathing bleeding into his voice. He looked as though he was about to say more, but perhaps he sensed Tsune's suddenly rekindled anger, because it was replaced on his lips with a curt "Good afternoon!"

"Uncle," Zuko pressed. "You never came to see me before that happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now?"

"Good afternoon." Ozai turned away, his face completely twisted.

"I want nothing from you! I ask nothing of you! Why can't we be friends?" The words were like a knife in the Spirit's heart.

_Why didn't he ever love you when he was your father? Why did he scar you? Why has he ever done anything? Just leave him alone, dear._

"Good afternoon!"

"I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute." _Please, Zuko. Just leave. Don't hurt yourself any more._ "We have never had any quarrel, to which I have been a party." _Of course not. This is his fault. And you can't change him, Zuko. Don't do this to yourself because of him._ "But I have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas humor to the last. So a Merry Christmas, uncle!" _Was it like this when you brought him the Avatar? Did he scar you again?_

"Good afternoon."

"And a Happy New Year!"

"_Good afternoon_." This statement was final. Cold and sealing as a tombstone.

Zuko turned and walked away. He plastered a fresh smile on his face as he passed the other man. Mr. Cratchit, he called him as he paused. For a moment they discussed the poorer man's family- he apparently had a lame son, Tim, and a few other children. They wished each other Merry Christmas (_Merry...yeah. Right. Not in this hole)_ and Zuko walked out. Scrooge-Ozai barked something at the unfortunate employee, but Tsune didn't stay- she had other buisness to take care of.

She didn't bother creeping into an alley to change. One instant she was a little gray mouse, sprinting at Zuko's heels. The next she was a young man, not unlike the gentleman she had impersonated earlier.

"You don't need to come back here," she said, her voice low. Zuko turned on his heel. "Your reflexes have deteriorated," she observed.

"What?" he asked, then blinked, remembering his manners. "Sorry...who are you?"

_I'm Tsune. I'm Chaos. I'm Christmas. I was in your debt once. I was your friend once._

"I am nobody," she said instead.

"Surely you are somebody," he insisted.

"Just a messenger, dear." She leveled her eyes with his. "And the message is this: you've done all you could. Don't bother with him anymore. He isn't worth your pain." His eyebrows raised in surprise...and shock?

"Not worth my pain?" he asked, as though not quite believing what he had heard."I'm sorry, sir, but we must be speaking of different mend-"

"Ebeneser Scrooge. Your uncle. You heard right. All he wants is to make you and everyone else as miserable as he is-"

"My uncle is a good and honorable man, sir," Zuko said, a dangerous edge to his voice. "And I will not have you speaking ill of him."

"Honor?" Tsune repeated. "What is it with you and Honor? You have it- he doesn't And if he ever has, then it's news to me."

"Can you hear what you're saying?" the young man demanded.

"Can _you_?"

"He is my uncle!"

"And you've paid your dues to humanity by coming today. But he won't. Never. I appreciate what you're doing and everything, but you're just wasting your time."

"He will come," Zuko said, his voice as hard as iron.

"It didn't look like it just now."

Zuko's eyes widened, his expression clear: _have you been spying on me?_ But then his face hardened. "Perhaps not tonight," he said. "But he _will_ come." He held her gaze for a few moments, then turned to walk away.

"I hope he does," Tsune called after him. "For your sake." He glanced at her over his shoulder.

"Merry Christmas," he said. And he disappeared into the London streets.


End file.
